


Disquiet

by CalicoPudding



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Absent Parents, Anxiety Attacks, Depressed Kuroko Tetsuya, Depression, Eating Disorders, Exhaustion, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Scratching, Self-Harm, Teikou Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoPudding/pseuds/CalicoPudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yes, I’m fine, just tired I suppose.”</p><p>Nobody believes him of course, but they don’t say anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, here I go projecting onto lovely characters again, I am a horrible person. And now, you get a multi-chapter story instead of a one-shot.
> 
> *the self harm is not super major, it's Kuroko scratching at his arms, and there's a little blood*

It’s not often that Akashi is out. He’s with their coach discussing practice matches, so his miracle players are on their own. Which usually wouldn’t be an issue.

But one of the first string members is shouting for Midorima to get Akashi, but he’s busy with getting everyone else out of the gym.

Kuroko’s sitting against the wall, eyes wide, with his hands clamped onto his biceps, nails digging into his skin.

The first stringer gives up on Midorima and runs for Akashi himself.

Aomine and Murasakibara are screaming at each other in the middle of the court. There’s a bruise blossoming on Aomine’s face where Murasakibara’s elbow had caught him as he was attempting a dunk. It was nothing but a rough dunk. But Aomine hadn’t been in a good mood to start with and Murasakibara had been snippy in his reply. One of their teammates had tried to intervene before it became a physical fight, but he’d been shoved back hard enough to go crashing to the floor.

The two have progressed to almost grappling, Murasakibara has height but he’s restraining himself, for now anyways. No matter how strong Aomine is, Murasakibara is capable of seriously injuring pretty much anyone. He knows that.

By this time, Midorima’s managed to clear everyone out of the gym. It takes him a few moments to spot Kuroko. Which is strange, because usually it takes longer.

Kuroko is curled up, raking his nails up and down his biceps, his eyes fixed on the scene before him. From the rapid movements of his chest, Midorima is fairly certain that the smaller boy is having some kind of attack.

He runs over, putting himself in Kuroko’s direct line of sight, so as to block the view of their fighting teammates.

“Kuroko, listen to me. Someone went to get Akashi, he’ll be here soon and he’ll take care of this. Can you hear me?”

There’s no visible change, and Midorima really doesn’t want to move him. Instead, he sits down properly, placing his legs on either side of Kuroko’s body. The scratching is concerning and Midorima can see blood. He takes Kuroko’s hands, holding them tightly before moving them to his own arms one at a time. His sleeves cover his biceps, it’s not that big of deal. Besides Midorima would much rather endure a bit of stinging and a blood stained shirt than see Kuroko tearing up his skin.

Immediately, Kuroko digs his fingers into Midorima’s biceps, but he doesn’t start scratching. Midorima sets his own hands on the juncture of Kuroko’s neck and shoulder, gently cradling his head.

“It will be fine, Akashi will take care of it,” he says quietly.

Kuroko’s crying, sharp breaths taking on a nasally quality

“Kuroko, can you hear me? Squeeze my arms twice if you can.”

It takes a few minutes but Kuroko takes a stuttering breath and complies, the squeezes are spaced apart, forcing him to focus on the action. Midorima keeps talking, mundane things that pull Kuroko’s attention away from the fight that's still going on. The boy’s knuckles are white, straining, no doubt numb by now.

From what he can hear, it doesn’t sound like they’ve killed each other. But they’re still shouting, and Midorima’s heard a few dull thuds of skin on skin.

Then, all at once, it stops, but Midorima doesn’t bother turning around. No doubt Akashi’s arrived, but Kuroko needs more of Midorima’s attention than the two idiots about to get their souls sucked out by their very pissed off captain.

“Okay, Kuroko, it’s over. Are you okay to be moved?” The two squeezes come after a minute or so and Midorima nods. Kuroko’s not crying anymore, and his breathing is no longer erratic, but he’s still not back to himself. Midorima speaks aloud everything he’s doing, even before he does it, and Kuroko squeezes his arms in absent responses.

Midorima picks him up and carries him out of the gym, away from their captain’s calculated anger, and sits with him outside. Slowly, he moves Kuroko’s hands, absently massaging some feeling back into them.

Kuroko coughs, blinking and looking around.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps after a moment. He’s a mess, his face is red and blotchy, smeared in tears.

“Do you have attacks like this often?”

Kuroko just bows his head and sighs, shaking Midorima’s hands from his. He starts rubbing at his eyes, before realizing that he still has blood under his fingernails. He settles instead for using his shirt.

“Sometimes, I’m okay now, thank you for helping me.”

“Kuroko-”

“Please, I don’t really like talking about them. They won’t be a problem from here on out, I’m sure.”

Midorima wants to press, but he only nods, withholding a sigh.

“Right, do you feel well enough to stand on your own?”

“Ah, I think I could use your help with that actually.”

They don’t exchange a single word as Midorima helps him to his feet and walks him back inside. Akashi looks irate, Aomine and Murasakibara are nowhere in sight.

“Kuroko, Midorima, there you are,” Akashi turns his attention to the two of them and Midorima feels the slightest of chills rush down his back.

“Is everything settled?” Midorima asks.

“Yes. Kuroko, your arms.”

“They’re just scratches, they aren’t serious.”

“You’re bleeding. Midorima, take him to the locker room, clean and bandage him up. Then go home, both of you.”

That said, Akashi turns around and leaves the gym, likely to resume his meeting with their coach.

Luckily, Kuroko follows Midorima without complaint. He sits down on the bench and waits quietly as Midorima gets the first aid kit.

The scratches have stopped bleeding, they’re shallow and, from what Midorima can see, there aren’t any scars from previous episodes. Regardless, he cleans up the blood with alcohol wipes until the skin is spotless, pointedly ignoring Kuroko’s light wincing. Once he’s satisfied that the scratches are clean, he wraps Kuroko’s biceps in gauze and tapes the bandages in place.

“Keep these on until you go to bed tonight, the bleeding should stop completely by then. Use bandaids afterwards.”

Kuroko nods and starts to absently pick the dried blood from beneath his nails.

Midorima’s left with a bit of a moral dilemma.

“Would you like me to accompany you on your walk home?”

“No, thank you for offering though, I’ll be fine.”

Without so much as a nod, Kuroko rises and walks the short distance to his locker. He doesn’t bother changing, just pulls out his bag and clothes, then leaves.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm planning for some actual solid progression with the next chapter but I had to upload something, so here we are.

The walk home is quiet, his arms smart sharp and irritating. He should have better control by now, should be able to remove himself before he gets bad. Flee, dissociate, he could have done _something_. But he hadn’t.

Now, Midorima knows, and so does Akashi, and that’s a problem.

There’s no one in the front room when he gets home, not that he’s expecting any different. In the bathroom, he unwinds the gauze, quietly pleased that the shallow scratches are already scabbing over. The only downside is that they’ll stay scabbed, evident, for a week or so.

He doesn’t bother with a shower, despite the sweat saturating his skin and the rumbling spasms in his muscles, just strips out of his gym clothes and crawls into bed.

Kuroko can’t sleep, despite his earlier attack draining him of his energy. He’s too busy thinking.

What if Akashi pulls him off first string?

What if he decides Kuroko is too unstable, and kicks him out completely?

Akashi wouldn’t do that, would he?

No, maybe not.

But Kuroko  knows there will be questions, he doesn’t want to answer them. Knowing Akashi however, he’s probably already figured it out.

And Midorima. Damn it, Midorima knows too. Kuroko will have to apologize, he knows that much. Midorima will be worse than Akashi, he thinks. After all, Midorima was witness to the attack; the scratching, the crying, the bite of Kuroko’s nails through his shirt sleeves.

He’s just happy that Momoi wasn’t there to see him; she’s been sick for the past two days.

Kuroko doesn’t want to go to school tomorrow. But staying home would be a pretty invitation for everyone to come see him, Midorima and Akashi at the very least.

The only plan he has is to be as evasive as possible until he does the impossible and convince Akashi of all people to drop the matter.

* * *

He gets out of bed just as his alarm goes off. From the smell of coffee wafting into his room, his mother is downstairs and getting ready to leave. So he stays put until he hears the front door close.

Kuroko takes a shower, seriously regretting his decision the night previous. The cuts on his shoulders have closed up some but he can’t resist the urge to pick apart the scabs. They don’t bleed, not heavily anyways, but his eyes are transfixed to the slim streams of red running down his arms. It stings slightly, the scalding water hitting the newly formed skin.

He doesn’t mind it though.

Kuroko has a small first aid kit in his room. By the time his shoulders are dry, they’ve begun to bleed again so he cleans them up with an alcohol wipe and tapes some gauze in place and moves his arm around to make sure it won’t come off in the middle of the day. Pleased, Kuroko gets dressed and packs up his gym and school bags.

The walk is to school is quiet. Occasionally, Aomine will catch up to him on the way, but Kuroko never expects it. It’s too sporadic of an occurrence to ever become a pattern. There aren’t as many people out in the morning as there usually are, and Kuroko is grateful for the fact.

His shoulders don’t really start stinging in earnest until he’s halfway to the school building.

He stops a moment, leans against the wall of a building and stares at the sky. Like always, the slight pain fades away after his mind drifts, and he finishes his walk to school on autopilot.

It’s only a little surprising to be met with a duo blur of purple and blue.

Murasakibara and Aomine look like they’ve just clawed their way out of hell, running as though the devil is at their heels. They’ve been running for quite some time it seems, if the soaked state of their shirts are anything to go by.

They’re running laps around the school, part of Akashi’s punishment for fighting most likely.

Once they’re out of sight, Kuroko makes his way inside and to his class.

He can’t quite focus on much, to involved in dragging himself out of the pit he’s been digging for the past few years. He needs to stop, he knows that. It’s irrational, the fear and the response, but he can’t stop.

He’s made a horrible mistake, letting Midorima see him like that. He could have walked out of the gym before it go too bad, sat behind the building maybe. But no. He’d been stupid and just slid to the floor.

Now, Kuroko’s a damn liar if he says that Midorima’s presence wasn’t helpful. If he can admit it, it made everything a lot easier, having something that pulled himself from his head, out of the panic.

But he’s not going to admit it. Everything’s fine, it has to be. They shouldn’t have to worry about him. And really, it’s not that big of a deal. Sure he scratches his arms up, but he can function just fine. He’s capable of going about his life.

So it’s fine, really.

Kuroko plans to stay in his classroom for lunch, step one in his plans for evasion, but it seems Akashi’s counting on it. He comes to Kuroko’s class and stares icily by the door until Kuroko gets up.

Aomine and Murasakibara aren’t at their table, neither is Haizaki, but he never really sits with them anyways. Midorima’s there though, and Kuroko wants to run away.

But he sits down and fiddles with his water bottle.

“Are you not going to eat today, Kuroko?” Akashi asks.

“I’m not very hungry.”

His reason is accepted without issue, but Akashi is staring at him and Midorima has his hands folded on the table.

“Will attacks like that occur in the future?” Akashi asks after a few minutes of silence.

“No,” Kuroko says quickly, “I was caught unprepared, but it will not happen again.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’m certain there won’t be another altercation like the one yesterday, so I will be fine.”

Midorima looks as though he wants to speak up, but he’s cut off as Aomine and Murasakibara burst into the lunchroom. They’re even more drenched with sweat than they had been earlier, heaving in air as though they’re dying.

“Aomine, Murasakibara, have you learned your lesson?”

Unable to speak, they nod.

Aomine collapses into a seat beside Kuroko while Murasakibara lays across the table. Akashi doesn’t bother reprimanding them.

“Hey Tetsu,” Aomine wheezes.

“You look terrible,” Kuroko says. His friend only puts his forehead to the table, trying to regulate his breathing and collect himself.

There’s no reprieve during practice.

Kuroko stands beside Momoi, off to the side, and they watch Akashi drill their two giants until they’re limbless puddles of exhaustion.

“What happened?” Momoi asks.

“They got in a fight with each other.” Kuroko’s voice is flat, he betrays nothing.

Momoi just sighs.

“Is that where his bruises came from?”

Kuroko nods and Momoi shakes her head.

“You’d think they’d know better by now.”

“Kuroko, I want you drilling with Midorima.” Akashi has a gleam in his eyes that Kuroko doesn’t like, but he does as instructed.

Midorima is on the opposite side of the gym.

This is just about the last thing he wants to do.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I am so sorry for the wait!

Midorima’s almost willing to dismiss Kuroko’s attack after a couple of weeks. The smaller boy seems perfectly fine; he’s staying late with Aomine, working hard during practice, and he _looks_ like he’s doing okay.

That’s where the almost comes in.

Occasionally, they actually see Kuroko change, for the most part he’s in and out with none of them the wiser. But once or twice since that day, Midorima’s seen new scratches on Kuroko’s arms. He’s told Akashi of course, he’s not stupid. But it seems his captain isn’t quite sure how to broach the subject. He knows Kuroko doesn’t like attention brought to himself. Ever the strategist, Akashi hadn’t brought up the scratching with the other boy, just the attacks.

Akashi doesn’t want to make a show of the situation. It’s bad enough that Aomine and Murasakibara have no idea that Kuroko even had an attack.

Midorima snaps to when the blur of a ball comes hurtling towards him. He manages to catch it, shooting it effortlessly a second later, despite Aomine’s snickering. They all go back to proper practice a minute later; Kuroko’s off to the side running basic drills with Murasakibara, the two will likely get into a small argument before the day is out, they each have their own way of playing of course.

Practice winds down a bit later than usual, and Akashi calls three of his miracles, and Momoi aside, after Kuroko leaves in a hurry.

“Shouldn’t Tetsu be here if we’re having a meeting?” Aomine asks, leaning against the gym wall.

“Not if the meeting is about him,” Akashi says simply.

Midorima stays quiet, worrying his teeth against his knuckles. Akashi had told him earlier that this is what he planned to do, it still doesn’t feel right. It’s for Kuroko’s own good, that’s what Midorima tells himself, it’s better if all of them know what’s going on. If just Akashi and Midorima know, the rest of their little group could unintentionally set off another attack.

No matter what, Midorima doesn’t want to see another one, he doesn’t want to see Kuroko looking so scared. He doesn’t really ever hang out with Kuroko outside of school and basketball, they talk occasionally, but Midorima feels closer to him now given the attack.

He feels almost responsible for the smaller boy.

Akashi recounts what happened, nearly verbatim what Midorima had said once Kuroko went home that day.

Momoi is shaking, her eyes filling with tears as her grip on Aomine’s arm tightens. As for Aomine himself, he looks worse than Momoi does. Guilt is etched into his face, one hand over his mouth, and he’s staring wide eyed at Akashi, practically begging for him to say that it’s all a lie.

“We- we made Tetsu have- he had a panic attack?” Aomine asks.

“Most likely, it could have been an anxiety attack. Regardless, it will not happen again.” If Midorima didn’t know better, he’d say that Akashi’s voice cracked near the end.

“What about the scratching?” Momoi cuts in. She’s got the ends of her hair tangled in knots, her free hand twisted up into the strands, yanking on them in worry.

“They aren’t deep,” Midorima says, “Kuroko claims that the attacks are normal, and there’s no remnants of past scarring. He doesn’t seem to realize that he’s doing it when in the middle of the attack, but he didn’t seem surprised when he came to. When he was holding my arms, he only held tight.”

It’s silent for all of two minutes before Momoi starts sniffling.

“As of now, Kuroko is under the impression that only Midorima and myself are aware of his attacks, and the scratching. It will remain this way. That is all.”

Murasakibara nearly runs, having remained silent for the entirety of the impromptu meeting. Midorima knows they have their differences on the court, but Murasakibara and Kuroko are fairly close. The idea that he was the cause of such a thing is surely troubling to the taller boy.

Once Aomine and Momoi leave, holding onto each other, the former dead quiet while the latter sobs softly, Midorima turns to Akashi.

“Is this a good idea?” He doesn’t make it a habit to question Akashi, the captain gets scary and he’s never been wrong before, but they’ve never dealt with something like this. If someone lets slip that they know, it may break the trust Kuroko has in both Midorima and Akashi. The most likely candidate is Momoi, but Aomine is an easy read as far as Kuroko is concerned, and even Murasakibara’s actions can be interpreted without much difficulty.

“For the time being, yes it is. Go home, Midorima, get some sleep.”

Midorima doesn’t really want to, going home feels like defeat for some reason. It’s not like he has a choice though.

* * *

Momoi stays the night at Aomine’s, they’ve spent the night at each other’s house so often that their parents don’t bat an eye at the request.

“How are we not supposed to say anything?” Momoi asks, pacing about Aomine’s bedroom.

“Just- we just don’t,” Aomine supplies unhelpfully. Momoi retaliates by grabbing one of the pillows off his bed and throwing it at him.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. If Tetsu finds out that we know, then he’ll figure out that Midorima tattled to Akashi, and that Akashi told us.”

“But we’re his friends! We can help!”

Aomine bites his lip. Yeah, maybe Momoi can, but he’s the reason Kuroko had an attack in the first place.

Well, him and Murasakibara, but that’s beside the point.

“It was my fault,” he says quietly, feeling the need to say something. He’s Kuroko’s friend, damn it, he should have noticed that something was wrong, should’ve stopped his stupid fight with Murasakibara. But he hadn’t even noticed. He didn’t see Midorima carry him out, he never even heard him crying.

“Dai-”

“I’m fine. I just…” Aomine yanks on his hair as best he can given its length and sighs, flopping back onto his bed. He doesn’t know, really. He feels guilty, but also angry, and betrayed because Kuroko never said anything. Aomine doesn’t even know why he got set off, doesn’t know what happened that gave Kuroko such anxiety.

“We can’t ask him about it,” Momoi whispers at last, “But we can still be there for him right? He’ll tell us eventually, won’t he?”

“I don’t know, Satsuki, I really don’t know.”

* * *

Kuroko wakes feeling lighter than usual. He doesn’t bother questioning the feeling, too grateful to risk it slipping it away. The kitchen calendar is marked to show his parents’ business trips; they’ll be gone for two entire weeks.

He’s always a bit conflicted when this happens.

He doesn’t really have anything against his parents, he doesn’t hate them, but he’s not sure if he loves them either. His mother is the one he’s closest to, and he could probably be fine if it was just her, but when both of his parents come together, that’s when trouble starts.

Tapping the calendar squares, Kuroko takes a breath before getting ready for school.

He doesn’t bother with breakfast, but he does fill up a water bottle to keep him sated through the day.

Aomine and Momoi meet him halfway to school. It looks like they both want to say something, if the concerned light in their eyes is an indication of anything. But Kuroko can easily chalk it up to imagination as it’s gone within the blink of an eye. Momoi gives him a bright smile, and Aomine’s grin is warmer than usual.

“Did something happen last night?” he asks, slinging his arm around Kuroko’s shoulders.

“No, I just slept well,” Kuroko says.

It’s a lie, blatant as the sun, but he knows Aomine won’t question it. And really, what can Kuroko tell him? Aomine doesn’t know what’s going on, he doesn’t know about the attack, any of it.

If he’s being honest, Kuroko would like to keep it that way.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been like three months, I am so sorry. I got sidetracked with other stories, then school happened, and it's been hectic all around. However, I promised a few people that I would get this updated before the end of the month, so here I am.
> 
> I put off an essay to do this, so I'm gonna come back and fix any mistakes tomorrow most likely. I mean, I proofread, but it's totally likely that I missed something.

It takes him five minutes to dig his keys from his bag. He’d taken his time getting home, knowing that his father would still be out of country, his mother should be back though. So long as there’s only one of them in the house at a time, he can handle it without much issue.

Just as he thought, his mother sits at the table, business papers spread out before her, a mug of tea in her hands. She looks up upon his entry, a very tired smile on her lips.

“Did practice run late?” she asks, setting the mug aside and pushing off the table to stand up. She’s not in her work clothes, just sweat pants and an old shirt that he’s pretty sure belongs to his father. It’s a rare sight. She’s forgone her contacts as well, a pair of thick framed glasses balancing on the edge of her nose.

“Sort of,” he says, shrugging noncommittally.

“You have a competition coming up, right?”

“In about a month, yes.”

She makes efforts when she comes back, and she’s been trying harder over all, he appreciates it. She’s away a lot, and Tetsuya can’t really blame her, she’s a verifiable genius, and her being a hyperpolyglot makes her a prime candidate for international business meetings. He understands.

But she’s never actually been to one of his games. He’s not bitter. Really.

“Would you mind if I came? I don’t have any trips scheduled, and I don’t think they’ll be sending me out for a while. Well, they might, but if they don’t, is that okay with you?”

 _Is that okay with you_?

She’s taking his feelings into consideration. He knows, without a doubt, that she’d understand if he said he doesn’t want her to come.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he says simply.

Her smile says enough, and it concludes their interaction.

He picks up his things and goes to his bedroom, his fatigue from the day finally settling in. His arms are free of scratches, two weeks of nothing but quiet had been good for him, so he takes a hot shower.

If he can sleep, that will be even better. Momoi had pointed out the dark circles beneath his eyes, and he’d gotten a hybrid look of concern and disappointment from Midorima when he nearly nodded off during their cool down stretches.

It’s not like he’s got Midorima hovering over his shoulder at all moments of the school day, but the taller boy has taken to keeping an eye on him.

No doubt at Akashi’s request.

Oh well.

* * *

There’s only five minutes of practice left when Akashi speaks up. They’re on the side of the gym, watching their team finish up. Midorima is already re-taping his fingers, glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he completes his meticulous ritual. Akashi’s words are so surprising that he nearly drops his tape.

Midorima takes a few moments to process what has just been said.

“You want Kuroko to mentor Kise?”

As a team, they’ve worked out a bit of system where their smallest, panic prone, teammate is concerned. Kuroko often stays late with Aomine, the latter makes sure to watch for the appearance of new red marks. Unfortunately, the lot of them have noticed that Kuroko is eating less and less, Akashi’s tasked Murasakibara to handle that.

Midorima doesn’t _really_ have anything against Kise, he trusts Akashi’s judgement. The blond is just a little too out there, he may be too much for Kuroko. Midorima doesn’t usually question Akashi, but given Kuroko’s mental state, and Aomine’s reports on the red scratches, he’s not sure if a mentor position is a good idea, especially not with their upcoming games, they’ll need Kuroko at his best.

“Kise will learn things he wouldn’t have otherwise learned had someone else mentored him, and this will give Kuroko something to devote focus to, it will help him, I’m sure. This will be good for the both of them.”

They wait until the next day to tell him, Midorima watches for any sign of reluctance, but Kuroko just nods and goes back to his abysmal drilling.

Midorima has his doubts, as does the rest of the team, but Akashi’s never been wrong before.

Sure enough, Kuroko seems more relaxed in the following weeks, and he’s eating a little more than usual. He does better with Kise, Akashi says that acting as a mentor helps with his sense of purpose.

Of course, it’s not a perfect system.

Eventually, Kise sees one of the scratches.

Midorima explains the situation and Kise spends the rest of the week hanging off Kuroko’s shoulders in what appears to be a sort of hug.

In any case, mentoring Kise really does seem to be helping Kuroko. He’s staying late with Aomine more often, and they all think that’s a good thing until one day they have to cut practice short and lock up the gym for the day.

Kuroko pales, as much as is possible for him, and immediately proposes a trip to the park courts to continue playing.  They all agree to go, even Akashi, and they stay for quite some time. However, one by one they have to leave for some reason or another.

Eventually, it’s just Kuroko and Midorima.

“Is there a reason you don’t want to go home?” Midorima asks.

Kuroko tries to shoot the ball and, as expected, it bounces off the backboard.

“I just want to play some more.”

“That wasn’t a proper response.”

Kuroko stills, fiddling with his wrist bands, but he doesn’t say anything else. He’s looking anywhere and everywhere but at Midorima.

“How are your arms?” Midorima asks instead.

“Fine, why?”

Kuroko’s sleeves covers his biceps, and they both know Midorima isn’t going to pull them up to check.

“Curiosity,” he says, pausing for half a heartbeat before he continues, “I’ll help you try to shoot if you tell me why you won’t go home.”

“I can’t shoot. It would be a waste of your time. Aomine’s already tried to help me.”

“Kuroko-”

“I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Midorima doesn’t want to leave him to himself, especially not when he knows Kuroko will end up staying until late. Whatever’s happening at home, whatever’s causing such levels of anxiety, it’s understandable that Kuroko doesn’t want to go home.

Akashi wouldn’t want Kuroko left alone.

“You’re welcome to my home for the night, my father is working a graveyard shift, but my mother is home, she’s probably making dinner right now.”

Kuroko pauses, his grip on the ball lax and easy, his eyes soften for a moment.

“That’s okay,” he says, “you should probably get back home if she’s waiting for you. Thank you for the invitation though, and thank you for staying this late with me.”

That’s not what Midorima wants to hear, so they work out a deal. Kuroko will be home before ten o’clock and he’ll send Midorima a picture to let him know. If he doesn’t, then Akashi will be getting a phone call.

* * *

The assembled teenagers look on at their small friend. He’s hiding behind a book. He hasn’t really said anything since school started. Kise noticed it first, the faint remnants of red beneath his nails, evidence that he’d curled in on himself and dug his fingers into his arm to anchor himself sometime during the night previous. Aomine sits beside him, Kuroko’s head against his shoulder as he reads.

“Kuroko,” Akashi calls, voice not quite gentle but not harsh either.

The boy looks up, dog earring his page as he pulls his focus to his captain.

“Yes?”

“I want you to run drills with Kise during practice today, and work with Midorima as well, understand?”

“I understand.”

Aomine manages to get Kuroko to drink some juice before it’s time to return to class, but Kuroko doesn’t accept anything else.

At practice, Kuroko works with Kise as instructed. Kise’s only just begun to work cohesively with Kuroko, and he still needs some polishing off before the game. They’re playing with other members of the first string, if only so Kuroko has targets to pass around. He makes a face when he sees Kise attempt to copy his pass, he stops in the middle of the court and watches the attempt absolutely fail. He’s lying if he says he’s not bothered, the prospect that Kise could one day copy his pass is frightening. His position on the team is tenuous at best, it’s all reliant on his ability, the ability only he has at the moment.

Kise seems to sense his distress and offers up a sheepish smile.

About halfway through practice, Kuroko goes to work with Midorima.

They’ve been attempting new passes, faster and longer distance, more efficient and even more invisible, so they have a half court to themselves. Midorima’s also set up a number of small cones, placed at random, to represent opposing players so Kuroko can also work on directional changes and curving.

Kuroko passes the ball, pushing onto it a slight spin so it turns up into Midorima’s hands, slightly easing his transition from catching to shooting.

Midorima notices the difference in the pass, flexing his fingers slightly once the ball falls through the hoop. Kuroko picks it up, dribbling it lightly before holding onto it.

“Let’s try that again, put more spin on the ball, I have an idea,” Midorima says.

They pull in Aomine so Kuroko can actually alter the course of a ball already in motion. They work at it for more than an hour, and by the time practice ends, Kuroko has a headache from the force of concentration he’s using. Though not entirely perfect, the pass moves faster, it’s more difficult to intercept, and Midorima can begin forming his shot a few milliseconds before he actually holds the ball. His original idea had been for Kuroko to pass the ball while Midorima’s already jumping, so there’s only a heartbeat of time where he’s in contact with the ball. But the timing is odd, and Kuroko can’t quite get the upward force on the ball.

However, Akashi is pleased with their progress, he nods to the both of them and a ‘well done, we can use this’ passes his lips as they make their way to the locker room.

Kuroko is half way out of his shirt when a full body shudder brings him to the ground. He recognizes the heavy haze of fatigue and welcomes it without question. A moment later, he’s asleep on the locker room floor.

“Hm? Kuro-chin’s on the ground,” Murasakibara notes, only somewhat concerned.

“What?” Kise shrieks, turning around quickly, momentarily forgetting that he’s in the process of pulling on his pants. He stumbles, catching himself against the lockers before refocusing his attention to the boy on the floor.

“Tetsu, hey,” Aomine drops to his knees, gently shaking Kuroko’s shoulders.

After a moment, Kuroko’s pale eyes flutter open, somewhat out of focus until he realizes who he’s looking at.

“Are-are you okay, Kurokocchi?” Kise asks, now properly dressed.

Kuroko sits up, smothering a yawn.

“Yes, I’m fine, just tired I suppose.”

Nobody believes him of course, but they don’t say anything. Instead, Murasakibara throws a candy bar at him.

“Thank you,” Kuroko says, a little confused as he pushes himself onto his feet. He puts the candy bar in his bag, not sparing a second of thought towards eating it.

“Just this once, because you haven’t eaten anything today.” It’s a lie though because this is the tenth time that Murasakibara has voluntarily Kuroko candy since the incident in the gym. Kuroko’s figured by now that Murasakibara is somewhat aware of what happened that day, and he knows that Akashi has taken note of how little he’s been eating.

This must be the guilt fixing solution for the former, and the removed concern from the latter.

“It would be best to eat something with nutritional value,” Midorima mumbles, digging around his bag. After a moment or two, he pulls out a granola bar of some kind and hands it over.

Kuroko stares up at him, looking for something in his eyes.

“It certainly won’t make up for the calories you’ve burned today, but it should tide you over until you can eat a substantial meal. Our game is in a few days, you should make sure to rest tonight, we can’t have you getting sick,” he says before picking up his things and leaving the locker room. There’s really no rush though, they’re all going to the usual corner shop.

Aomine grumbles something that might be an agreement and finishes getting changed. Once everyone is dressed, they join Momoi and Midorima outside and begin their walk.

Kuroko has the decency to eat the popsicle that Murasakibara gives him, but he does so with reluctance. Midorima is on his phone for the entirety of the excursion, and he won’t admit who it is that he’s talking to when Kise asks him.

“Goodnight everyone!” Momoi calls, waving as her team goes their separate ways. Kise turns around and walks backwards, cheerfully waving as well. Murasakibara raises a hand to acknowledge he’s heard her and Midorima is still busy on his phone. Kuroko offers a quiet smile before walking off, and Aomine stays at her side.

“Has he mentioned anything by chance?” Momoi asks.

Aomine and Kuroko practice late most nights, and sometimes Kuroko confides in him.

“No, nothing. I think maybe he’s getting worse,” Aomine admits, rubbing out a kink in his neck as they begin walking.

“In what ways?”

“Well, his arms, there are more of the marks. And he fell asleep in the locker room before we left. Well, it was more like he passed out, or fainted maybe? I'd say it was the upcoming game if I didn't know him, it's not his first”

Momoi gently bites into her knuckle, worry flooding through her.

“And he hasn’t…”

“Akashi’s trying to figure out what we should do. So far, the only plan is ‘build up his relationship with the team’.”

“To show Tetsu that we’re all friends? Shouldn’t he know that by now?”

“Yeah, but he’s stubborn, he probably thinks he’ll be bothering us if he opens up.”

Aomine gives his friend a stiff hug when he notices she’s just about to break the skin of her knuckle. Momoi sighs and hugs him back before they part ways to go home.

The first thing Aomine does when he arrives is flop down face first onto his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, the time since Kuroko's attack, and the end of this chapter is about two months. I also apologize for how jumpy this chapter was, I'm still kind of iffy about it.
> 
> Feel free to yell at me on tumblr at wire-pudding If you're unaware, that's where all the story info/updates can be found


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been ages, I apologize. Please see the tumblr blog for some more info on how things are going to proceed from here on out.
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I apologize profusely for the fact that it has been a lifetime and a half.

On a whim, Aomine goes to Kuroko’s house, intent on walking to school with the other boy. He knows around what time Kuroko leaves so it’s just a matter of arriving a few minutes before then.

Kuroko’s house seems empty, even from the outside, and it looks as though his parents are already gone, though he can’t be sure. That’s not too unusual, he knows that they both work in the morning, but Aomine still doesn’t like it. At least when he leaves for the morning, his mother is there to wish him a good day and embarrassingly kiss his forehead. He prefers that to not seeing her at all.

It takes a few minutes for Kuroko to answer the door. He looks barely awake, his hair's a mess, even more so than usual, and the bags under his eyes look like bruises.

“You look like shit,” Aomine says unthinkingly.

“What are you doing here Aomine-kun?”

“I came to walk you to school.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Kuroko only sighs and waves him inside.

Aomine can’t say that he’s been to Kuroko’s house too often, the smaller boy never really invites anyone over. It smells like lavender, and Kuroko smells like toothpaste. And it feels empty, almost unreal.

“Sit down, I’ll be back in a few moments, then we can go. “

Looking around, Aomine figures that Kuroko’s parents aren't home. But it doesn't seem like they've been gone long. Everything’s fairly neat, it almost seems staged in a way. There are no photos that he can see, and he finds that just the slightest bit odd. Surely there would be at least one family photo, right? He looks a bit harder, moving from the walls to the shelves and tables.

There’s one photo, it’s of Kuroko when he was much younger. He’s sitting with a middle aged woman, Aomine would say she’s his grandmother but she doesn’t look all that old. Kuroko looks happy, he’s smiling, all bright eyes and rosy cheeks.

Aomine wants to get up, look around further, but he doesn’t want to have to explain himself to Kuroko should the other ask.

He doesn’t end up waiting long, Kuroko reappears after a few minutes, his hair doesn’t look any better.

“Are you ready?’

“Yes, let’s go.”

Kuroko had been wearing a short sleeved shirt when he answered the door, and there were no new marks on his skin. Which is good, that’s good. But Aomine’s still not sure if Kuroko is aware they even know. Midorima and Akashi were the ones who told them, but maybe Kuroko thinks they kept it to themselves.

“Your mom at work?” he starts conversationally.

Kuroko gives him an odd look before answering.

“She’s sleeping in.”

“Really?”

But the house had been so empty, he was sure that Kuroko was the only one there.

“She doesn’t have to go in today.”

“Day off?”

“Not exactly, she’s coming to our game today,” Kuroko says softly.

Aomine can’t keep the surprise off his face, luckily, Kuroko is looking dead ahead.

He’s not sure he’s really ever _met_ Kuroko’s mother, he’s seen her in passing, but that was a few months ago. She’d never come to a game, as far as he knows, neither of Kuroko’s parents have.

“That’ll be nice,” he says.

Kuroko just nods.

“Yes, I think it will be.”

* * *

They win.

Nobody’s surprised, but they’re all happy. Kuroko is too, still riding an adrenaline high and constantly wiping sweat from his face.

Kuroko’s eyes roam the crowd, looking for the spot he’d seen his mother in earlier. However, he can’t find her hair anywhere in the sea of spectators. She’d been there at least until the first half of the game ended. He saw her clapping and smiling an actual happy smile, she’d waved at him. He’d lost track of her after that.

He keeps looking, the high slowly fading away. Had she left? A work call? That had to be it, right? She wouldn’t leave without a reason. He knows that, knows that the logical assumption is that she was called away for business.

But he can’t determine if his elevated heartbeat is due to the game or the sudden anxiety.

Aomine’s arm around his shoulder grounds him instantly, pulling his gaze from the crowd.

“Great job on that last pass, Tetsu.”

Aomine holds up his free hand for a fist bump and Kuroko complies without hesitation, smiling up at his friend.

Once they’re back in the locker room, Kuroko’s anxiety returns.

His phone is blinking in his bag and he pulls it out, unsurprised to see a message from his mother.

She was called away for an emergency meeting, she’s sorry, she hopes he can forgive her, she’ll be back either late in the night or early in the morning.

Kuroko closes his phone without replying and puts it back in his bag. He gets changed and rushes out of the locker room. He ends up nearly running into Momoi before he gets too far, she’s waiting in the hallway for the lot of them.

“Tetsu? Are you okay?”

“Just a bit tired, I’m all right, really.”

He doesn’t miss the way that her eyes dart to his arms, hidden beneath his sleeves and scratch free, and he can’t help but wonder. Surely, Midorima and Akashi wouldn’t have told the others, and they especially wouldn’t have told Momoi. It wouldn't make sense, his basketball uniform showed off his arms clear as day, the entire team saw that his arms had no scratches. There's no reason for her to look at his arms.

Was it a coincidence? Maybe Momoi saw one of his bandaids at some point? His little issue is something the rest of the team shouldn’t be bothered with, it’s bad enough that Midorima and Akashi know, but he’d expected them to keep it to themselves.

Maybe he’s just overthinking.

“You can sleep on the bus,” Momoi says, taking his hand and squeezing it a moment before letting go and giving him a blinding smile.

They settle against the wall while they wait.

“I heard your mom came to watch,” she starts.

“She did, she had to leave though, business call.”

“Oh, Tetsu, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, she came, I’m glad she did. I can tell her about it when she gets back.”

“That shouldn’t be too long then.”

Kuroko just shrugs, ignoring Momoi’s look of concern. Truth be told, he usually knows when his parents’ trips end, but this go around he’s clueless. His dad will be back the next day at the latest. At the earliest, he’ll be there by the time Kuroko gets home.

He’s spared from any further conversation as Aomine rounds the corner, followed closely by Kise. The blond is still miffed that he hadn’t gotten to play. Akashi hadn’t been willing to let him on the court given how short of a time he’d been on the team. Kise tried to cite the game that he’d been in with Kuroko, Akashi had just stared him down until he dropped the matter.

The bus ride back home is full of light hearted banter on Aomine and Kise’s part, while Midorima and Akashi discuss gameplay. Murasakibara is drifting off and Momoi’s going over the data she collected.

Kuroko figures it’s as good a time as any to catch some shut eye.

He ends up stuck in some limbo space between sleep and wakefulness. His thoughts swirl around, just barely coherent enough to make sense of.

He doesn’t know how long his mother will be gone, and though he operates under the thought that he can handle things if just one of his parents are present, he’s not so sure about that anymore. He’s fine with his mother, less so with his father. There’s something about the man, nothing sinister, but something that tells Kuroko to stay out of the way.

His parents got together young, because Kuroko was born. They moved in with his grandmother to ease some of the burden, but Kuroko knows that, at the least, his dad never wanted kids. Things had been fine, Kuroko liked spending time with his grandmother, she was a sweet lady. Things stopped being fine when she died. His _parents_ stopped being fine when she died.

Truth be told, he doesn't really know if his parents actually love each other. Or even like each other. They put up with each other, but they're never together long enough to do whatever it is that married people do. His father's schedule has him out during the day, and he goes right to sleep when he gets back. His mother is almost always in different time zones, or she's managing large scale projects. Whenever either of them have free time, it's usually spent on solitary relaxation. When it's not, the both of them are on a short fuse and in each other's face, starting arguments at the drop of a hat. They never escalate, never get violent, but the  _yelling_ , Kuroko hates it. 

Whatever future they imagined for themselves when they were younger, Kuroko figures that this definitely isn't it. Their dream hadn't included a child, hadn't included so much stress and so much tension. Rarely do people's hopes for the futures occur just as they planned them, but are they always so drastically different?

Which leaves a bit of a grey area for wherever Kuroko is supposed to fit in.

He figures that mother loves him in her own way. His father tolerates him.

Kuroko supposed he’s okay. He can handle being in the grey area, at least for a little while longer. He just has a few years to get through. A few years of yelling. A few years of a house that doesn't actually feel lived in. A few years to spend wondering if it's ever going to-

The bus rumbles to a stop and everyone gets off. He picks up his tired body and follows his teammates, his friends, as they make their way to the gym.

He catches Momoi talking to Akashi from the corner of his eye but his attention is pulled away as Aomine slings an arm around his shoulder.

Yeah, Kuroko supposes he’s okay.

He manages to walk home alone, shaking off Momoi's concerns. The quiet gives him time to clear his head, and the cool air feels nice. His mother will probably want to talk to him, so he hopes his father isn't home, that would just make everything difficult. 

The door is unlocked so Kuroko walks in, looking around until he sees his mother at the table. As opposed to the papers she had last time, she's typing away on a laptop, a mug of coffee beside her. 

"Tetsuya," she says immediately, standing up and rushing over.

Without hesitation, she wraps him in a hug. 

He freezes, muscles tensing as he tries to smother the alarms going off in his head. This is new. He doesn't know if he likes it, but he knows he doesn't dislike it either. His mother doesn't let go of him as she continues talking.

"I'm sorry," she says, "I told you I'd be able to stay but I left. My boss called me just after the first half ended, I couldn't- Are you angry with me?"

She pulls back and Kuroko searches her eyes. She's not trying to guilt a response out of him, she's genuinely concerned that she's hurt his feelings by leaving. He appreciates it.

"No, I understand, it was unavoidable."

She looks like she wants to say more, but she just bites her lip and nods. 

"I can make you some tea, if you want?"

Surprising himself, Kuroko nods. Once his mother goes into the kitchen, he drops his bag off in his room. He'll shower later, but for now he changes into a pair of shorts and a sleep shirt before making his way back downstairs. 

By the time he's settled at the table, the tea is still steeping, but his mother sits across from him. She closes her laptop and folds her arms atop the table.

"So, I'm sure you won, but how did it go?"

She's making strides, and Kuroko's mouth is open before he realizes it. He lets his words run away from him, tells his mother about the match, about his teammates. He tells her about Momoi's abilities with data collection, about Aomine's new shots he's been practicing. He tells her about how Kise whined about not being able to play, about their practice before the match, and everything else along with it. 

He can't remember if he's ever said so many words to his mother at one time.

His mother takes in all the information, nodding along and smiling, asking the occasional question. 

Kuroko doesn't stop talking until he's finished his tea. 

"I think I'm going to go to bed," he says at last.

"Of course, it's late, goodnight."

He's halfway to the stairs when she speaks up.

"I'm proud of you."

* * *

Kuroko always answers the door. His father sleeps like the dead after his shifts, if he’s actually in the country, and his mother has already left for work by the time he’s getting ready to leave. Or, that's what Kuroko's told the lot of them. In the weeks since their last match, they've taken to walking him to school in the morning, moving in informal rotations. Most of the time it's Aomine and Momoi, but Kise's a close second.

So it’s a bit of a surprise when he knocks on the door, only for it to be answered by Kuroko’s mother.

They’ve all met, though that may be too strong a word, they’ve all _seen_ at least one of Kuroko’s parents, on no more than two occasions and neither of them at the same time, but their phantom sixth man rarely talks about them. Kise knows that Kuroko’s mother was at their last game but he never saw her, and she left early from what he understands.

Come to think of it, he had to hear it from Momoi, Kuroko never said anything.

This Kuroko looks incredibly tired. She doesn’t quite have bed head, what with all her hair being thrown up into a loose ponytail, but it’s not hard to imagine who Kuroko gets that particular trait from. She looks a little younger than Kise would have expected, but that's not really his place to judge. She looks just like he son, almost perfectly, she just looks more run down.

“Oh, you’re Ryouta, correct? One of Tetsuya’s teammates? He talks about you sometimes.”

“Um, yes ma’am.”

Kise is momentarily floored at the thought that Kuroko actually goes home and talks to his mother about them. In depth apparently, she managed to identify him by name. It’s endearing in a way, and he almost misses what she says next.

“Good, good. Tetsuya’s brushing his teeth but he’ll be down in a moment. Come in.”

With all that they think that something’s wrong with Kuroko’s parents, his mother seems perfectly pleasant.

Kuroko makes his appearance a few minutes later, subtly surprised at seeing both his mother and Kise in the room.

“Come on, Kurokocchi, Akashicchi wants us doing early morning practice, just the six of us.”

Kuroko only nods and picks up his school bag from where it sits on the kitchen table.

Kise figures it’s in his best interest not to mention how Kuroko's mother doesn't say goodbye, and neither does Kuroko for that matter. They just wave to each other, Kuroko from the door and his mother from the dining table.

They walk in companionable silence for the most part, until Kise can’t hold back his babbling.

Kuroko listens like he always does, smiling softly. That’s what keeps Kise talking, and he doesn’t stop until they reach the gym and Aomine tells him to shut up.

“Akashicchi,” Kise pulls their captain aside while everyone else changes.

“What is it Kise?”

“I saw Kurokocchi’s mom today. Whatever’s wrong, I don’t think it’s a physical kind of thing. Kurokocchi was comfortable around her for the most part, and she just seemed really tired. The only odd thing was that they didn’t really talk to each other.”

Akashi nods after a moment.

“Thank you, I’ll pick him up tomorrow to see for myself.”

The next morning, Akashi is at Kuroko’s house twenty minutes earlier than is strictly necessary. He knocks, regardless, and waits until a very exhausted woman answers the door.

“Hello, are you another one of Tetsuya’s friends?”

“Good morning. Yes, I am Akashi Seijuro.”

“Tetsuya’s captain? He’s mentioned you before. You’re welcome to come in, Tetsuya is still getting dressed I believe. You know, it’s nice that he has friends to walk with him, thank you for doing so.”

“Of course, ma’am, it’s no trouble.”

Akashi steps inside, looking around in what could easily pass as a cursory manner.

The front room is fairly void of personal touches. There’s one picture of a much younger Kuroko with a woman who can only be his grandmother, but nothing else.

Kuroko’s mother disappears, presumably to get the boy in question. About five minutes later, Kuroko enters the room, looking a little better that he did the day previous.

“Akashi? What are you doing here?”

“We’re friends, Kuroko, surely walking to school together is an enjoyable enough activity?”

“Well, yes, but usually it’s one of the others.”

“I understand that I’m early, you may finish getting ready.”

Kuroko only gives him an uncertain look but nods and disappears up the stairs. His mother remains absent while Akashi waits.

Like Kise said, their interaction is fine, normal if a little strained. The woman’s only fault seemed to be her lack of sleep and the slight bit of tension that comes with it.

Akashi can’t really fault her. He knows all about Kuroko’s parents as far as their professional lives are concerned. Looking at the boy, one would never guess his parents did such prestigious work.

A hushed conversation drifts down the stairs and Akashi strains his ears to listen in. He can’t hear much, but there’s nothing negative or malicious in the tones, so he resigns himself to continue waiting.

Kuroko appears moments later. There’s no redness in his eyes, no tear tracks on his cheeks, he seems fine.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

They walk out the door and Akashi remembers what Kise said about Kuroko and his mother not saying goodbye to each other.

“I was under the impression that your mother worked in the morning,” Akashi starts conversationally.

“She requested a later start time, they can’t really refuse her.”

“That must be nice.”

“It’s different. Why the sudden interest?”

“Just an observation.”

They lapse into a short bout of silence while Akashi plans out the rest of their conversation in his head.

“I’m going to ask you a question,” he says once Kuroko’s home is out of sight.

“Okay.”

“Would you say you have a good relationship with your mother?”

Kuroko doesn’t skip a beat in his answer, and if Akashi didn’t know better, he’d believe the other boy in full.

“We don’t have the best relationship, but she’s a good mother. She tries.”

“And your father?”

Kuroko just shrugs.

Akashi nods and they continue walking. He’s not expecting Kuroko to speak up.

“Did you tell the others about my arms...or the attacks?” His voice is quiet, impassive as it tends to be, but there’s a touch of something. “At our last game, Momoi looked at my arms when I told her I was tired. I thought it might be coincidence, but now that everyone’s made it a point to come to my home, I can’t help but wonder.”

Akashi knew it was a gamble, telling the others, and he’d figured that Kuroko would somehow find out. Perhaps they were a bit too obvious, even if Momoi hadn’t looked at his arms. If Akashi had to guess, he would have pinned the blame on Kise for Kuroko finding out. For all the blond had in hidden intelligence, he's a bleeding heart, particularly where their phantom man is concerned. 

There’s no point in lying to him, Kuroko would know if Akashi was anyhow.

“I did, yes. Midorima and I informed the others, so that we could avoid future attacks.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“Are you angry?”

“No.”

“Then?”

He watches Kuroko heave in a breath, and he stops walking. Kuroko does to, and he turns to face Akashi.

“It’s a personal matter, one that I can handle on my own, and it requires no involvement. I appreciate the concern, but it was not your secret to give away.”

Akashi doesn’t have a reply at the ready.

“No one thinks any less of you,” he says instead.

Kuroko doesn’t respond, and they continue walking in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. We got some relationship repair between Kuroko and his mom, some background, and some worried teammates. Hopefully we can get some issues resolved next chapters. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter Six

Things are okay for a while.

His mother’s later start time lets them sit together in the morning. Before she goes, she makes them both tea, or coffee if they’re in dire need of it. Some mornings they don’t speak beyond a greeting, and that’s okay. On the mornings that they do talk, Kuroko asks her about her projects and she asks him about school and basketball.

Given how late he stays for practice, she’s almost always home when he arrives. He’s recently found out that his mother has a particular gift for cooking. She tells him that she’s rusty, it’s been some time since she’s actually made a meal. She doesn’t do anything fancy, her dishes are simple, but Kuroko is absolutely ecstatic. If she doesn’t have any work to take care of after dinner, she’ll help him with homework, or they’ll watch some television before going to bed. 

It’s nice. 

She’s home more often, putting her foot down on trips that can be covered by other people. She agrees to a compromise that lets her work some trips through a computer call. There are some that she can’t turn down though, and she always apologizes before hand. Kuroko assures her it’s okay.

How things are now is much more preferable to how they were. He didn’t think it would ever be this nice, or even that his mother even possessed such parental capabilities. It hasn’t been all that long, but he’s fallen comfortably into place within this new homelife. He hasn’t had any attacks, a fact that’s been noted by his friends, and he feels more at ease with himself than he has in a long while.

It’s still a little strange, not in a bad way, but the fact that his mother is trying so hard for him pushes those feelings aside. He’s tried to tell her that he’s never blamed her, but she just smiles a small smile. He’s good at reading people, and his mother has very expressive eyes, he knows she still blames herself.

But things are good.

The first problem arises when his father is back in country for a longer period of continued time than he’s ever been. It’s not that it’s a problem, really, it just puts a wrench into the easy atmosphere that’s settled between Kuroko and his mother. 

Kuroko returns home after practice a little earlier than usual to find his mother at the table, work spread around her but it doesn’t look like she’s actively doing any of it. His father is at the other end of the table, typing away at a laptop.

Kuroko goes straight upstairs.

Later that night, his mother knocks on his door. 

Kuroko knows that his mother isn’t afraid of his father, and neither is he. But there’s something palpable in the air whenever they interact that makes Kuroko want to run. It sets his nerves alight and the little panic button in his head starts to blink. His father isn’t abusive, not physically, and not intentionally on the emotional front. Maybe neglect would fit better? Emotional neglect sounds a bit more fitting, but still too strong even then.

Kuroko has very few fleeting memories from his youth where his father is concerned. His mother too but that’s neither here nor there. He spent a lot of time with his grandmother, as she was the only one who didn’t work. The memories with his father are almost scripted in a way, like he wasn’t sure how to act around children. 

That’s always been the problem. His father didn’t wanted kids, and he’s never expressed a hatred towards Kuroko, but he hasn’t really stepped up into the parental role either. He tries, stiff parodies of what he thinks it’s supposed to be like, but it never works. His own father hadn’t had the warmest parenting techniques, raising his son in a manner more akin to business than family. 

Kuroko’s mother had been very adamant that he not meet the man.

“I'm going to talk to him tonight,” she says, sitting on the edge of Kuroko’s bed. “We didn't do a good job when you were little, and I want to make sure we do better now so-”

“I don't blame you,” Kuroko says, “you know?”

His mother just smiles softly, as she always does, and nods after a moment.

“You’ve always been a good kid, Tetsuya, thank you.” She ruffles his hair then stands ups. “Goodnight dear.”

Kuroko watches her leave, anxiety creeping slowly in. Something dark and foreboding takes up a home in the back of his head, he doesn't like it.

He doesn't sleep that night, straining to hear the slightest bit of his parents’ conversation. He's unsuccessful, but that's good, because it means they didn't get angry and start yelling.

The next morning, nothing has changed. His mother is at the table, two mugs of tea, still steeping, beside her. Her hair is down, brushed to perfection, her reading glasses perched on her nose. She's dressed for work.

“Good morning, Tetsuya, did you sleep okay?”

“Well enough,” he lies.

She pushes one of the mugs toward him and smiles.

He hasn’t been finishing the mugs, taking only a few sips in front of her then dumping the rest down the sink. He’s done this before. Pick one aspect of his life to control, just one. Half the time he can’t control the reactions his body has, the attacks and the tears that come out of him against his will. So, if he can’t control what comes out, the next best thing is what goes in. He’s more careful this time around, knows what amount will keep him just above fainting, what will keep him sustained for practice so that no one ends up concerned.

That particular formula is one that had taken a while to pin down. It was several months of trial and error that, at the time, had not been good to him, but it pays off now.

“I have a conference today, and a few projects I have to touch base on, but I'll be back before you finish practice. I can pick you up, if you'd like?”

Kuroko takes a sip of the tea before answering.

“Oh, thank you, but we were going to go out and discuss an upcoming game we have.” He sees her face fall a fraction. “But, another time? Another time, certainly.”

“Of course,” she says, eyes dropping to her watch. “Okay, I have to leave, have fun at school, do well at practice.”

She gathers the few papers in front of her, slipping into her shoes before standing.

Almost absently, as she walks toward the door, she bends to kiss his head.

Then she's gone, off to work.

Kise comes to pick him up as he's putting on his shoes. The day is spectacularly normal; the classes blur together and practice is uneventful. They go to a park and get their strategy together for their next game. It’s a minor local tournament, Momoi had brought their attention to it. Aomine had been on board with the idea immediately and, together, he and Momoi managed to convince Akashi and a few other first string members to participate. Usually, they don't take such precautions in their preparation but Murasakibara rolled his ankle, and Midorima refuses to participate as the day of their match is to be a bad day for Cancers, add to it that their opponents will be particularly skilled, and that it’s not exactly a formal match.

Akashi wants all their bases covered.

Kuroko opts to walk home by himself, accepting a hug from Momoi before he goes.

It’s been a good day.

Then it's not.

He gets inside, gets to his room, and drops his sports bag. 

Their voices drift down the hall and Kuroko doesn't hesitate. He turns around and goes back outside, not going far, but he keeps walking until he can't hear even the ghosts of their voices.

He’s drawing in his breaths far too fast, making pitched whining noises as he does. His whole body heats up, his chest tightens immediately as he begins to lose feeling in his limbs. He doesn’t have the presence of mind to know where he is, but he’d been heading in the direction of the park, so hopefully he’s there and not hunched over on the sidewalk. 

Either way, he’s not exactly in the safest position.

He doesn't resist the urge to scratch at his arms, he's wearing long sleeves, and he'd bitten his nails to the quick a few days ago. At worst, he'll turn his skin red and it will fade before tomorrow morning. 

The attack runs its course, shortened by his swift removal from the situation. 

When he comes back to himself completely, his body is still shaking and he feels sore all over. He’s still a little warm but the he figures the cool air will take care of that. 

He doesn't know exactly when this started, only that he hasn't always dealt with it. After his grandmother died, it certainly got worse, the past year or so becoming unbearable. 

When he returns home, his mother is at the table, red eyes and nursing a hot drink. Her glasses hang from her shirt collar and her hair is messy as though she’s run her hands through it several times. 

“Tetsuya,” she moves from the table immediately and doesn’t hesitate to fold him in her arms. 

Just for a moment, he starts to panic, but then it fades.

It’s nice. 

“I was worried, I knew you’d come home but I didn’t see you, I figured you left when you heard us but-”

She pulls back, quickly wiping at the tears that had once again started to fall. She gestures for him to follow her to the kitchen where there’s still hot water in the kettle. They remain silent until she’s made him a mug of tea and they settle at the table.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

He didn’t, not really, but he can imagine.

Maybe.

“What were you fighting about?”

His mother is quiet, taking a sip from her mug before answering.

“You know, I don’t think I can even remember.”

She’s not lying, he can tell.

Things aren’t so okay after that, they’re not bad, but it’s a wreckingball to what he’d built with his mother. 

He’s not sure if his parents love each other anymore. Too much time spent apart on business, too much time spent working, they’re practically strangers now. Before, they’d been like ships passing in the night, able to transition from work to home without friction or acknowledgement. Now, it’s not so easy. The air is charged with tension, and Kuroko knows that they’re arguing now. 

There’s no more yelling, and he can never make out any words when they do argue, but it’s not good. 

He stops joining his mother in the morning as often as he used to. On the mornings that he does, she’s wearing makeup to hide sleepless shadows and she oozes fatigue. During the more calm nights, she’ll stop by his room to check in with him, ask him how his day was, and he’ll respond as honestly as he deems necessary. 

Things aren’t so good now.

They’re sitting outside one night, each with a blanket around their shoulders. His mother managed to come home early and Kuroko had already finished basketball practice. The evening is fast approaching and they’d made the nearly silent decision to watch for when the stars came out. 

There’s still some time before that happens though, and Kuroko figures that now is as good a time as any to ask the question that’s been bothering him since the first fight.

“Do you two still love each other?”

His mother doesn’t startle at all, in fact, she seems to have been expecting the question. She does, however, take a moment longer than expected to answer. 

“I’m not sure really. Things have changed,” she starts, “we certainly started out loving each other. Do you know how we met?”

It’s not exactly the topic he wants but there will probably be a tie in, so Kuroko shakes his head. 

“We had a silly romance movie beginning. We’d known each other since junior high and we ended up in the same high school and college. Classic sweethearts, I suppose. Both of our parents were ecstatic when we decided to get married, as were we. Things were wonderful in the beginning. We were both pretty entry level when we started, so we had more time for each other. But even when we started going on trips, we still made time for each other.”

“And then you had me,” Kuroko says softly.

“And then I had you. I took time off work for your first year, as much as I could spare. We already had plans for my mother to move in with us, I figured that with her around, I could have time for both you and my career.”

She goes quiet for a moment, her hands twisting in self soothing gestures.

“I’m sorry that didn’t happen. I...we had no idea how to be parents, I never really had that maternal instinct. And that’s not an excuse, by no means is it an excuse. But before I knew it, you were all grown up and I didn’t know how to- I guess I’m straying from your question though, huh?”

“Just a little.”

“Right.” She straightens up, letting go of her hands and smoothing them over her legs. “I think that, maybe, we don’t know  _ how _ to love each other anymore. Your father...he changed when you born, I think he was afraid to turn into his father, and the only way to avoid that was to avoid you. But he was different, and I ignored it for...well, for my own benefit I suppose. I can’t speak for him though, I don’t know what he’s feeling now.”

Kuroko nods, feeling a little removed from the whole conversation, but he doesn’t feel bad. He has answers now, and his mother had freely given them. She could have refused to answer, she could have lied. 

But she didn’t.

“So what happens now?” he asks. 

“I’m going to make this work as best I can, and as best I know how. I hope so, anyway. I know starting now doesn’t make up for everything before but I’m going to do my best from here on out, okay?”

Kuroko leans close enough to rest his head on her shoulder and that’s answer enough.

* * *

Nothing’s for certain, but they do know that Kuroko isn’t eating. Aomine’s kept track of how many times he’s skipped lunch or declined an offer of a snack over the last few weeks. It’s gotten to the point where Murasakibara is actually more than willing to share with him.

Though he doesn’t make a show of being obvious about it, their resident giant still feels guilty about the fight he’d had with Aomine. He’d deny it if asked, and he has been asked, but no one can really blame him. Aomine feels the same sense of guilt, both for the fight and for not realizing it sooner. He spent quite a bit of time with Kuroko even before the other was on the team, he’s supposed to know Kuroko best. 

Kuroko hasn’t said anything about what’s been going on at home, but that’s the only thing that could have possibly changed.

The lot of them really thought Kuroko was getting better. They know his mother stays in the morning with him, and from what Akashi told them, things were going okay at the least. Kuroko was eating more, he seemed to have more energy, and his arms were free of even a hint of scratch marks. Now, he’s agitated and tired, quieter than usual. The shadows beneath his eyes just seem to get darker and everyone’s worried. 

Aomine knows at a base level that there’s something happening with Kuroko’s parents, something that causes Kuroko’s attacks to come more frequently than they ever have. He’s just not entirely sure what’s happening. It doesn’t help that Kuroko always gives him that stupid smile of his, empty and infuriating, whenever Aomine asks him if he’s okay. He’s not, Aomine knows that, but he’s not sure what he should be asking.

Given what Kise and Akashi had said about Kuroko’s mother, the issue is likely something to do with his father. He’s never seen the two adults in the same place at the same time, and Kuroko seemed to be better when it was just his mother that was home. The only possible conclusion is that there’s something in their interaction that sets Kuroko off. Why now, though? What had happened to change that? Maybe they fight, maybe it’s something else, Aomine doesn’t know.

Occasionally, Aomine can weed out some information, but it’s never anything definitive, and Kuroko only brushes off questions that could reveal something deeper. And he’s careful never to say anything too damning. What he does say just muddles the situation more.

Aomine’s just about to fall asleep when his phone lights up, a message alert flashing on the screen. It’s from Kuroko, and says only ‘meet me at the park?’. 

Aomine is up and throwing on decent clothes and shoes before his response finishes sending. He’s out the door as quietly as possible, easily navigating the darkened streets once he gets outside.

Kuroko’s waiting for him when he arrives, and by the looks of it, he’s been out long before he sent Aomine the text. He’s on autopilot, completing dribbling drills and failing any shots he attempts.

Aomine does a cursory glance over.

Kuroko’s wearing long sleeves so it’s impossible to see his arms. But it’s obvious he’s been crying. His eyes are bloodshot to a degree Aomine didn’t know was possible. His sleeves are soaked from wiping away his tears. To top it off, his hair is a mess.

“That was fast,” Kuroko says, voice hoarse. He stops what he’s doing and holds the ball to his hip.

For just a moment, Aomine can see his hands shaking.

“It’s almost one in the morning,” Aomine replies, holding his hand out for the ball. He drops his bag to the side so it’s off the court.

Kuroko complies, but he does so reluctantly.

“You didn’t have to come, I thought you’d already be asleep.”

“It’s fine.”

Kuroko sent the message though, regardless of what he thought, that had to count for something, didn’t it? He thought to reach out, Aomine thinks that’s progress.

They start up a fairly one sided match, he’s holding back and he knows that Kuroko knows. Kuroko attempts a basket and the ball bounces off the rim. Before Aomine can grab at it, Kuroko speaks up. 

“He left.”

Aomine freezes, the ball rolling further away. He straightens up, turning to face his partner.

“What?”

Kuroko shoves his hands into his shorts pockets, likely in an attempt to keep himself from scratching at his arms. He presses his lips tight together and averts his eyes. It looks likes he’s trying to make himself smaller, hunching his shoulders forward the slightest bit. His breaths stutter, the uneven rise and fall of his chest evident in the dim light.

“You wouldn’t have asked me to come if you didn’t want to talk,” Aomine tries. 

It takes a minute or two for Kuroko to get himself under control before he nods, heaving in a breath.

“Um, my parents, they were fighting,” he says softly, eyes fixed on the ground, “and my father left. ”

His voice is impassive, like he’s just stating facts, but Aomine can see his lips quiver when he stops talking in order to take a breath.

“Actually, I walked out when they were fighting and ran around, played here for a while, trying to calm down, I guess. Then I went back, and he was gone, and she was crying.”

“Tetsu-”

“It was going to happen eventually, I just didn’t think it was going to be this soon. I don’t really know why I’m upset, it’s not like anything will change really. He just won’t be coming home. It’s not like- When he wasn’t home it was- I really don’t understand why I’m acting like this, it’s pointless.”

Aomine’s not sure how he’s supposed to deal with this exactly, it’s never been his area of expertise. He knows that Kise and Murasakibara will be asleep, and he doesn’t want to chance Akashi. Maybe he can message Momoi and Midorima then. Midorima was the one who helped Kuroko the first time, he should know what to do. 

For now though, he figures he can improvise. 

He pulls Kuroko into a hug and tries not to flinch when he hears Kuroko sniffling. They stand together for a few minutes, staying put until Kuroko goes silent.

“Does your mom know you ran off?” Aomine asks.

“I don’t know, she’s probably realized that I was there, and that now I’m not.”

“I’ll walk you home, she must be worried.”

Kuroko doesn’t give him a response but he doesn’t protest Aomine moving back. 

However tonight turns out, he’s going to have to tell the rest of the team, Momoi at the least. 

They walk in utter silence, Kuroko’s shoes scuffing along the sidewalk with each step. He doesn't seem to be dreading the return home, but there’s something in the air about him that Aomine doesn’t like. 

It doesn’t take long and soon enough they find themselves standing in front of Kuroko’s house. 

“Do you want me to tell the others?” Aomine asks as they approach the door.

“No. I’m certain I’ll be fine by tomorrow, if I’m not then I’ll tell them myself.”

“Do you want me to come inside with you?”

“I- If you don’t mind, it will only be a moment.”

Kuroko opens the door and in the time it takes to blink, his mother has him wrapped in her arms. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering how Kuroko had the sense to bring a basketball with him, he didn't. It was in his sports bag which he had with him when he left the first time. 
> 
> That being said, I am terribly sorry for the wait, I realize I happen to say this pretty much in every chapter note, but life is crazy. I'm still working on the outline, not quite sure what I want the endgame to be, but I will let you all know once I figure it out.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an idiot and I completely blanked on the fact that Akashi doesn't call the GoM by their given names until after the whole second Akashi situation, that was my bad, I apologize. I've gone back and fixed all that so everything should be correct now.

Midorima wakes up with just a hint of a bad feeling swirling to life in his stomach. It’s not pleasant by any means, but it’s not of a life threatening nature. If anything, he only feels excessively worried.

Still, he goes about his morning routine, a little faster than usual, and is in the middle of taping his fingers when he puts a face to the bad feeling.

He leaves earlier than necessary in order to make it to Kuroko’s house.

He’s walked Kuroko to school two times now but he usually leaves that job up to Kise or Aomine as the two of them seem to help Kuroko more than he does. But now isn’t the time for frivolous chatter. The first time Midorima arrived at Kuroko’s it was because the latter had nearly fainted in practice the day previous and he’d wanted to check in. The second was because Akashi asked him to seeing as Kuroko had seemed particularly agitated during their last practice.

It’s not that he doesn’t care, but Midorima only steps in when he feels as though an analytic approach is the most helpful. Aomine and Kise’s methods seem to work best as there’s no active element of information gathering. Simple chatter to take Kuroko’s mind off things is almost always a good bet. For the most part, Kuroko doesn’t take well to being analyzed, no one does really, and friendly conversation is usually enough.

Not this time, and not with this sort of feeling.

He’s halfway to Kuroko’s house when he realizes he’s felt this sort of dread before. The day of Aomine and Murasakibara’s fight, when Kuroko had gone home. Midorima had had a knot in his stomach for the rest of the evening, nothing boding well _at all_. And it feels like that now. He doesn’t like it.

Midorima finds himself somewhat taken aback when Kuroko answers the door.

He looks as though he hasn’t known a moment of sleep in his life, his body exuding fatigue as he leans heavy on the door. Midorima has no doubts that Kuroko didn’t sleep the night previous, and all the nights before that must have been passed with minimal or fitful sleep. He’s at least dressed for the day, but his hair is still an abhorrent mess. There’s a faint red tinge to his eyes, but the degree isn’t enough to call him out on crying, as it could easily be chalked up to exhaustion. Still, Midorima knows which option is more likely.

“Good morning,” Kuroko says simply, voice as toneless as usual though there is some sort of rasp beneath it. He waves Midorima inside and closes the door.

Within the walls of Kuroko’s home, Midorima is hit with a strange sense of emptiness. Nothing soul crushing and existential, but simply the feeling that there should, or had been, more people in the house. There aren’t too many personal effects lying around, and the home looks to be more staged than actually lived in. That’s a touch troubling, but Midorima finds that such an appearance is only cordoned off to the front room.

There’s a woman sitting at the kitchen table, Kuroko’s mother Midorima figures, and she looks worse than Kuroko does, if that’s possible. Exhaustion aside though, the two look incredibly similar, the only difference being the expression displayed openly on her face. The tabletop around her is covered in mostly empty mugs, a few composition notebooks, a case for contacts, some loose papers, and a couple of pens. It does enough to balance out the staged front room.

“Ah,” she says, standing up, “so you’re Midorima Shintarou, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You as well, ma’am. If I can ask, how do you know who I am?”

She raises her left hand and wiggles her fingers.

“You’re the shooting guard on Tetsuya’s team. I saw some of your shots when I managed to attend a game, you’re very talented.”

She sounds like she’d much rather be sleeping, but there’s a smile on her face as she talks. Midorima knows that Kise and Akashi have met her when they walked Kuroko to school, he’s not sure if Aomine has, and he knows for certain that Murasakibara has not. All the same, she’s not entirely what Midorima had expected.

His initial thoughts were that Kuroko’s mother was strict, uptight, more of a businesswoman persona all the time as opposed to just at work. He’d thought that she was one of Kuroko’s main stress points, but that theory had been shot down when Kuroko’s mood started rising whenever she was home. Though Kuroko’s mood had fallen recently, and quite dramatically so, given both his current state and his mother’s, it wouldn’t be far fetched to assume that the other shoe had finally dropped.

Midorima’s not sure what to think now, or even what he’s supposed to do.

Kuroko seems completely at ease, he’s not tense at all and he doesn’t seem uncomfortable. The only somewhat negative thing is that he’s halfway dozing against the wall.

“Plus,” she continues, “Tetsuya’s told me all about his teammates.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be ready in a moment,” Kuroko says, pushing himself away from the wall, “then we can leave.”

He goes upstairs, presumably to fix his hair, and leaves Midorima with his mother. Her gaze settles on his retreating figure and once he’s gone, she turns her attention on Midorima.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

She sits back down and motions for him to come closer. Midorima can see, now that’s closer, that the papers around her are covered in near illegible writing. He can’t make anything of it, and half of them are simply full of mindless doodling. It seems as though any important documents are face down, with only a few spots of ink showing through where there’d been too much pen pressure.

“What is it?”

“Do you think you could keep an eye on Tetsuya for me? I know Aomine’s going to but, from what I’ve heard, you’re a more technical observer. Is that correct?”

“It is.”

“Good. I’m worried about him right now, he doesn’t express much anymore, and we had a bit of an...let’s call it an upset, last night. So, just- Can I trust you to be a good friend?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you, Shintarou.”

“If I can ask, what was the upset?”

He has an idea, but it’s never good to make hasty generalizations if one doesn’t have all the facts.

“I’d rather leave that decision up to Tetsuya. But, I promise, it’s not life threatening or anything of that nature.”

Midorima only nods, and Kuroko’s mother smiles.

They’re on their way soon enough, Kuroko smothering a yawn in his hand.

“Getting a full night’s rest is important,” Midorima says, attempting to open up a conversation. He prays that Kuroko will play along, but there’s a good chance that he’ll respond nonverbally and that will be the end of it. Truth be told, the two of them have never been particularly friendly before, but finding Kuroko like that during Murasakibara and Aomine’s ridiculous scuffle had shaken up more than a few things.

Though...

Are they friends? They’re good teammates, certainly. There’s no doubt that Kuroko and Aomine are friends, and Kise too, most likely. But Midorima’s never seen himself as more than a close teammate. But with recent events considered, maybe such a label applies now.

Maybe.

All things aside, he’d most definitely worried, and he’d very much like to _not_ be worried.

“Thank you for the concern,” Kuroko says, “it was just a long night.”

“Take a nap during lunch. I don’t normally condone skipping a meal, but a power nap would do you good. If you faint again after practice, it will cause a stir.”

Kuroko has the same smile as his mother, Midorima realizes, this sort of smile anyway. One that acts as a veil, a smile that, when paired with his expressionless eyes, emits a sense of false ease. But it’s still tired, and anyone who sees it will know that he is hiding something. The strength lies in the fact that one can’t really call him out on lying when he uses it.

“I suppose you’re right.”

Midorima opens his mouth to speak but he’s cut off when Aomine comes running down the sidewalk in their direction, Momoi close behind.

Momoi doesn’t look any different than usual, maybe a little red in the face from the run but otherwise, no change. Aomine on the other hand looks as though he has a secret he’s been sworn to keep.

And he looks worried.

“We should really coordinate this whole ‘escorting Tetsu to school’ thing,” he says.

“That seems like something one would do for a pet,” Kuroko says, voice backed with only a little bite. Aomine at least has the sense to grin sheepishly.

“Morning, Midorin,” Momoi says.

“Good morning.”

With Aomine and Momoi, their walk is filled with talk, and Midorima wouldn’t think anything of it on a different day. However, coupled with the cryptic promise he’d made to keep an eye on Kuroko, and the way Aomine seems to be going out of his way to keep the conversation running, it culminates into a _something_ that Midorima doesn’t feel too good about. The best course of action would be to run his observation by Akashi, see what he has to make of all this. No doubt they’ll have to confront Kuroko eventually.

* * *

 

Kuroko makes no move to leave the classroom and join the others for lunch, so Aomine stays put, sending of a quick text to Momoi to let her know.

“Feeling any better?” he asks, twisting around in his seat.

It had been something of a surprise to find Midorima of all people walking Kuroko to school, no doubt Akashi will be clued in to anything Midorima noticed. Honestly, Aomine’s not sure what to make of the situation. If it were anyone else, he’d be somewhat put off by the degree of reaction.

But this is Kuroko.

So it’s a bit different.

He looks put together at least, nowhere near like what he had when Aomine dropped him off earlier this morning. Kuroko’s mother had pulled Aomine aside while Kuroko went to wash his face, she’d asked him if he could keep an eye on her son.

Of course, he’d said he would.

Kuroko shrugs.

“I didn’t sleep- well, I think I napped for ten minutes. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Did you want to tell the team today?”

Momoi had known something was up the instant she saw Kuroko this morning. She didn’t say anything, perhaps fearing it would make Kuroko worse. But she’d texted Aomine before their classes started to express her concern. Aomine tries not to make a habit of lying to Momoi, half the time she can see through it anyhow, and there’s no way he can tell her that Kuroko is fine.

“Not yet.”

“Are you sure?”

No one is going to think less of him, if that’s what he’s afraid of. The only justification that Aomine can come up with is simply that Kuroko feels as though he should be able to handle the situation by himself. Certainly, his more than complicated relationship with his parents doesn’t help anything.

“Yes, though I figure Midorima has already spoken to Akashi,” Kuroko says with a small smile. “If that’s the case, then we’ll probably end up talking about it after practice.”

He doesn’t sound bitter, which is a little surprising given how Kuroko had reacted to finding out that Akashi had told the others about the attacks and the scratching. But if he’s not particularly bothered by it, then Aomine won’t question the decision.

Before he can say anything else, Kuroko is asleep, arms folded on his desk in front of him, head bowed.

* * *

 

Miraculously, despite his fatigue, Kuroko doesn’t lag behind during practice. If anything he’s oddly hyperfocused. His passes are faster, more powerful, the only downside is that Kuroko’s hyperfocus isn’t actually on his practice. His autopilot is somehow more powerful than his usual state, and Midorima isn’t sure what to make of that.

He doesn’t know enough to call it a dissociative episode, but wherever Kuroko is, it certainly isn’t in the gym.

He’d told Akashi everything but the promise he made to Kuroko’s mother. Midorima may not be the wholly sentimental type, but he has a sense that the promise is personal. Besides, it does nothing to affect the situation. Hopefully, Akashi can put the pieces together better than Midorima can, and if all else fails they’ll drill Aomine into the ground until he reveals whatever it is that he knows.

Because he obviously knows something.

The part that worries him is that Momoi doesn’t know. It would be different if the both of them were hiding something, but it’s just Aomine.

Practice winds down and Kuroko ends up doing cool down stretches with Kise and Murasakibara towards the back of the gym. Midorima doesn’t know what they’re talking about, but judging by Kise’s constant hand gestures, he figures it’s a frivolous matter.

It’s keeping Kuroko present in any case.

“He seems better today, much better,” Momoi says, coming up to stand beside Midorima. She’s worrying her lip between her teeth, and her hands are occupied with a clipboard.

“I won’t contest that.”

“Something’s still off though,” she says, “he looks so exhausted.”

“I have a feeling we’ll find out the situation soon enough.”

He’s right, of course, all it takes is one look to Akashi for confirmation.

Despite the memories made, the gym feels to impersonal to be revealing such personal stories, so Akashi suggests they walk to the park. No one says anything to Kuroko, no one has to. Though ‘resigned’ seems a bit too harsh, Kuroko seems at ease with the situation, as if he’d been expecting it since he opened his door this morning to see Midorima.

Of course, Kuroko’s not stupid, he would have known immediately that Midorima would be reporting to Akashi. The fact that he’s so predictable should be off putting, maybe a bit irritating, but this situation of theirs has a habit of doing away with the ‘norm’ of things.

Once everyone is dressed and ready to go, they do so. Momoi has her arm linked with Kuroko’s the entire time and the two of them have their own conversation while Aomine, Kise, and Murasakibara discuss their practice.

“You’re thinking quiet loudly.”

Midorima and Akashi walk behind the rest of their team. Kuroko and Momoi are in front of them, the other three leading the way. The order works well enough Midorima supposes.

“I’m worried about what we’ll hear when he tells us.”

Truth be told, he’s been fearing the worst.

On that first day, when he’d cleaned and bandaged Kuroko’s arms, the other boy hadn’t taken his shirt off. The first thought that had popped into Midorima’s mind was that he’d done so to hide bruises. But that was ridiculous. They’re in the locker room with Kuroko on a daily basis, if there were bruises on his torso, they’d know. His next fear was that Kuroko had no familial support in any aspect of his life. Both of the boy’s parents are business people, and fairly esteemed ones at that, so with such busy lifestyles, would they make time for their son? Midorima’s own father works a busy schedule, and his mother is only home in the evenings. Even then, they both make time for him and his sister.

He’s never doubted his parents’ feelings towards him.

Kuroko probably has though. Given all the theories they’ve put together, the phrase ‘emotional neglect’ keeps ringing through Midorima’s head.

And he doesn’t like it.

Akashi doesn’t respond for a while, apparently taking the utmost care in formulating his response.

“I’m sure we don’t have much to fear. Despite the past month’s hiccups, he’s doing better. We’re over the worst of it now.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“I simple do, there’s no use in questioning.”

Midorima resigns himself to silent fretting for the rest of the walk.

They don’t jump headfirst into questioning once they arrive at the park courts. Aomine and Kise play a one-on-one while Murasakibara hands Kuroko his school bag so the latter can take his pick of snack food. Kuroko ends up sharing the bag of chips with Momoi, which is fine, at least he’s eating it.

Midorima and Akashi take their seats on the benches, attention seemingly on the one sided match taking place before them. The match ends pretty handedly with Aomine’s victory before he’s grabbing Kuroko by the wrist and pulling him onto the court. _Somehow_ they convince Murasakibara to come too and the four of them start...something. It’s not quite a match, more like a collaborative effort to get Kuroko to handle the ball as much as possible.

It’s easy to see, according to Midorima anyhow, that Kuroko knows exactly what they’re doing.

Aomine passes him the ball and instead of passing it to Kise or Murasakibara, or attempting to dribble it, Kuroko holds onto it, propping it against his hip and turning to face Akashi.

“I appreciate what you all are trying to do, but I think it would be better to be more forthright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted an update on the tumblr blog, it concerns the update schedule of this story, so it might be worth checking out?
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all liked the chapter, I do apologize for the short wait, I had schoolwork that took precedent, but I think I'm in calm waters now. Let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *generic key-smash*

The quiet isn’t so much uncomfortable as it is charged. 

Kuroko stands in the kitchen, staring hard at the kettle and wishing for it to slow down some. He’d been composed at the court, but it was going to get dark, and it was going to get cold. Like an utter moron, he’d suggested they take their little intervention to his house, as it was the closest. His mother is working late, she won’t be in for some time, and everyone but Momoi is at the table. She’s at the counter, setting seven mugs on a tray and adjusting them over and over again.

Kuroko draws out the process a few minutes longer than necessary, but soon enough he’s carrying the tray to the table. The only seat open is at the head and he bites his lip. Akashi, Kise, and Midorima sit on one side while Momoi joins Aomine and Murasakibara on the other. 

They run through the motions, everyone taking a small sip before their attention zeroes in on Kuroko. He really doesn’t know why he thought this would be better. They were halfway to his house when he realized just how much he wanted to be back at the court. 

“Kuroko-”

“What do you want to know, exactly?” Kuroko cuts Midorima off without thinking. He does his best to straighten up, takes a sip of his tea before folding his hands in his lap. He clasps them tight, knowing that the tremors will start soon, he can already feel them humming to life in his heart.

He can do this.

He has to do this. 

“What happened last night?” Akashi asks. 

Kuroko had known this would come up from the second he opened the door to see Midorima. He knows Aomine hasn’t told anyone, but there’s not much that escapes Midorima’s attention. 

Going through school and practice had been fine, more or less. He was still in a bit of a haze, distant. This intervention has been a long time coming, he’s actually surprised that it hasn’t happened sooner. The only thing he hadn’t anticipated was how it feels.

Momoi looks about ready to cry, Aomine is obviously worried, Murasakibara is biting his lip, Kise is fidgeting, Midorima keeps cleaning his glasses, and Akashi’s eyes are unwavering in their gaze. They’re waiting for him, waiting for him to cut himself open and bare the events he’s hidden. It’s not just the events of last night, they’ll want to know everything.

How did this all start? Were you always so anxious? How long have these attacks happened? Does this have anything to do with parents’ relationship? What exactly is their relationship anyhow?

He can feel his heartbeat pounding against his forehead, the skin around his eyes feels tight and his mouth goes dry. He unclasps his hands just long enough to pick up his mug and take a sip. He puts it down, maybe a little too loud, and clasps his hands once more, squeezing tight enough to ache.

They’re waiting for him. 

Something comes out of his mouth, but it’s certainly not words. He chokes, chokes on air, on the breath he was drawing in before he spoke. 

He jolts back when he feels something against his face. 

Momoi’s there, arm extended, the crook of her index finger wet with tears. 

His face is hot, there’s too much- too many-

He’s crying, he’s cried enough times that even if he can’t feel the tears, he knows what everything else feels like. He doesn’t bother trying to wipe them away.

The shakes are spreading, the edges of his vision growing fuzzy. He blinks hard. His mouth is dry again. Everything is spinning. 

Someone’s talking.

People are moving. 

More noise.

Hands.

Not his hands.

His hands are on something familiar though, not clasped together.

Not on his person.

He can’t breathe.

Breathing too fast.

Can’t breathe.

His fingers are twitching.

His nails are blunt, there won’t be any damage. 

“Kuroko.”

Midorima. 

His vision is still fuzzy but everything stills for a split second, just long enough to process Midorima’s face, then everything swells back.

“Listen to me, focus. We’re going to do what we did the first time, okay? Two squeezes for yes, one for no. Do you remember?”

He does.

They were in the gym. People were fighting. People were yelling. He had his back to the wall. He scratched up his arms. Midorima was there. Akashi came later. They found out about his arms. They-

“Kuroko, two for yes, one for no. Do you remember?”

He tries to focus, squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to process any visuals. It’s quieter here than in the gym. There’s only some shuffling. Though, it’s hard to tell if it’s actually quiet or if he just can’t hear anything over his heart pounding in his ears.

He squeezes once, slowly, then again. 

“Good. Okay-”

Kuroko chokes again. The noise he makes is high pitched, it hurts his throat, it throws him deeper into his own head.

“Tetsuya, it’s just you and me. Everyone else moved to the front room. Can you hear me?”

He can’t make his left hand cooperate, so he squeezes twice with his right.

“I’m going to count out paces for your breathing okay? I need you to try and follow them as best you can, or you’re going to choke again. Understand?”

His left hand is back to rights, he squeezes twice.

It doesn’t take as long as he expects. Midorima counts and Kuroko does what he can to focus. 

After about ten minutes, he comes down enough to open his eyes and let go of Midorima’s arms. 

“Sorry- I-”

“It’s okay, just finish collecting yourself.”

They sit in quiet and Kuroko drops his head to the table.

“Given your reaction, I think it would be best if you just talked with one of us.”

Kuroko croaks out an okay and sits up.

“I really am sorry,” he says. “I should have been able-”

“No. Like I said, it’s okay, everyone else agrees. It doesn’t have to be me, you can tell one of them if you’re more comfortable.”

Akashi is too intense, he’s not sure if he can handle that. Momoi might be too emotional, Kise would be too. Murasakibara just isn’t the right fit for one on one interactions of this sort. Which leaves Midorima and Aomine. 

Aomine already knows what happened last night, but nothing else. Midorima was the first to find out about the attacks and the scratching. It’s really a matter of who would be able to look at the situation more objectively. There’s no question then, by that parameter.

It’s Midorima. 

“I think it would be best if it’s you,” Kuroko says, he’s not croaking but he’s a bit raspy, his throat feels raw. 

“Okay, let me tell everyone else, and I’ll be back. Drink your tea.”

Midorima gets up and walks to the front room. 

It’s a courtesy, more so than anything. The only thing between the kitchen table and the front room is a small section of wall and a turn. The others can probably hear from where they are, especially if they’re being quiet. Hell, some of them would be able to see him depending on where they’re sitting.

Still, Midorima’s given him a moment to himself.

He can hear them talking, their voices quiet. Midorima explains the situation, they all give a mumbled confirmation to say they understand. 

When Midorima returns, Kuroko is breathing properly, though his hands are still twitching a little bit. 

“Okay, your mother said there was an upset last night,” Midorima begins. “What was that?”

“You talked with my mother?”

Midorima just nods.

That’s right. Kuroko had left the two of them to finish getting ready this morning. Of course his mother would have said something, she’d spoken with Aomine as well before he went home. 

“Um, Aomine already knows, I called him last night- this morning, I guess. My parents were fighting when I got home and my father ended up leaving. I ran off to the park and I called Aomine after a little while, I think it was about one o'clock. But uh, when I got home, my mother informed me of the situation.”

“Which is?”

“They’re getting divorced.” Kuroko curls his hands into fists to deter the urge to scratch at himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Midorima says, voice unusually gentle.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, but thank you.”

“Would you mind explaining about your parents? You don’t have to give me every detail, but they haven’t always left you alone, have they?”

“Yes and no. My grandmother raised me, for the most part.”

“Your grandmother?”

It’s the tone that makes Kuroko look up. Midorima sounds lost, surprised. His face shows it too.

“Yes?”

“I- I wasn’t aware that you live with your grandmother,” Midorima says.

“Well, ‘lived’ actually. She passed away recently.”

Kuroko takes another deep breath, only just realizing he’d not told anyone that his grandmother died. He hadn’t thought it relevant or important enough to bring up, so he’d kept it to himself. Both of his parents were in country for the funeral, they stayed for about a month before things went back to normal. Well, not normal for Kuroko, but normal for them. One of the only photos they have on display is of Kuroko and his grandmother, granted he was much younger when the photo was taken. She was fairly young, much younger than the other grandparents in the area, but she had a heart condition. 

“I-We had no idea.”

Kuroko just shrugs.

“I never said anything. I would have been surprised if you had known.” He tries to smile, to lighten the mood. He figures he’s only half successful.

Midorima doesn’t probe much farther, he asks about Kuroko’s mother, how she’s holding up. He asks a few questions about how things were when Kuroko was growing up, and about his parents’ general relationship before saying it’s okay for them to stop. 

“Are you okay if I call the others in?”

“I’d rather go out there. The table feels too formal.”

Midorima nods and they both get up to move. 

In the front room, Murasakibara is sprawled on the floor with Kise and Aomine while Momoi leans against the wall and Akashi stands just off center of the room. 

“Do you feel any better?” he asks.

“Somewhat,” Kuroko folds his arms to keep himself from fidgeting, unsure where to go from there. “Uh, thank you, all of you, for everything you’ve done.”

Momoi strides across the room and stops just in front of him. The question she poses is silent. Kuroko drops his arms and leans in a little as she pulls him into a hug.

He ends up in the kitchen with Murasakibara while Midorima talks with the others. Kuroko can't cook, not really, but apparently Murasakibara can. They're not making anything complicated, Kuroko actually doesn’t know what they're doing but he follows lead.

“You can come over to my house whenever you want,” Murasakibara says suddenly, startling Kuroko so much that he drops the knife he's holding.

“Sorry?”

“My house. I have older brothers and a sister, it's noisy but if you want to come over some time, that's fine.”

He can’t see Murasakibara’s face, the taller boy is facing the stove. Murasakibara isn’t the most expressive person around, he usually maintains some semblance of apathy in his day to day, but recently he’s been making efforts. Part of Kuroko thinks it’s great, the other part worries that Murasakibara is going outside of his comfort zone expressly for Kuroko’s sake. 

That doesn’t sit well with him at all.

“Uh, thank you, Murasakibara. You really don’t have to offer if you don’t want to, I’d hate to be a bother.”

Murasakibara turns around then, an undercurrent of  _ something _ beneath his mask of apathy. The only reason Kuroko can tell is because he’s applied a similar mask before, he knows when someone’s fronting. 

“No,” Murasakibara says, shaking his head, “just come over whenever, I don’t care.”

He turns right back around and Kuroko’s about to speak up again when the front door opens. 

It can’t possibly be that late, can it?

“Oh, what a surprise. I didn’t know you all would be coming over today, I would have finished up sooner.”

“We didn’t know either,” Momoi says, “it was all very last minute, ma’am.”

“Okay then, well, I’m glad you’re all here, it’s nice to meet the rest of you in person. Where’s Tetsuya?”

“In the kitchen, ma’am.”

He steps out of the kitchen just enough for his mother to see him and she waves him into the hall.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

She looks tired, the shadows beneath her eyes are barely covered with her makeup and she’s wearing her glasses instead of her contacts. She’s been running her hands through her hair, definitely biting her lip. Most of all though, she just oozes fatigue. 

“Um, I told them what happened last night, they were worried,” he says.

“Okay, that’s- your eyes are red.”

Her hands are on his face, framing his cheeks as her eyes flit all about him, assessing some kind of invisible damage. 

“I just cried, that’s all.” He doesn’t try to move, her hands are warm and they feel nice. She doesn’t know about the attacks, doesn’t know about the scratching. 

He’d like to keep it that way. 

The twisting feeling in his stomach tells him he might not get a choice.

His mother nods and lets go of his face.

“All right, if everything’s okay right now, I’m going to get cleaned up. I can make something for dinner, is everyone staying?”

“They are, but Murasakibara is already cooking.”

She laughs, a short sound that’s more of a sharp breath than anything, but she smiles all the same. She gives his hair a light tussle before nodding and making her way to her bedroom. 

Kuroko takes a moment to gather whatever composure he’d lost before returning to his friends. 

He’s not sure where they go from here. 

They know now. They have more than Kuroko ever intended to give away. This evening began with an attack, and now it’s ending with a meal. Does this change anything? Thus far, it hasn’t affected his participation in practice or games. But that was then, and this is now. Things are different now. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since his father left, there’s no way he’s actually processed that in its entirety. What if he has some kind of relapse? What if that leads to his removal from the team? 

The whole situation is bizarre enough on its own, Kuroko doesn’t want to add more variables. 

Murasakibara is still in the kitchen when he gets to the front room but Kise, Aomine, Momoi, Midorima, and Akashi all look up from they’re huddled together. 

“Anything the matter?” Akashi asks.

“No, everything’s fine.”

It’s not long before the food is ready. Kuroko points his friends to the bathroom so they can wash up. His mother kicks Murasakibara out of the kitchen, thanking him as she does so. 

They gather around the table and Kuroko comes to a strange realization.

It’s a tight fit. 

That’s never been the case before. 

Before his grandmother died, the table only had to seat four people, it rarely did that of course but that’s beside the point. More often than not, it would just be Kuroko and his grandmother for meal times. Recently, it’s been him and his mother. 

Tonight though, the table seats eight people.

Kuroko sits beside his mother on one side, Aomine and Momoi to his left, Murasakibara and Kise across from him, and Midorima and Akashi to his right. His mother serves everyone a plate before asking them about their day. She gets the others talking about practice and the rest of the season. 

The domesticity of it all is...foreign, to say the least. 

Kuroko can’t bring himself to eat, he pokes around his plate, moving food around to disguise the fact. 

He’s kept this particular piece to himself. It’s one thing to admit to familial turmoil, but this is another matter entirely. He recognizes it for what it is, but that changes nothing. With all he’s given up tonight, he holds on to this last aspect of control.

If they ask, his stomach is still tight from earlier, he can’t stomach food right now. 

As a general rule, Kuroko tries not to lie, but it’s not entirely a lie this time. There  _ is _ a knot of tension still in the pit of his stomach, it’s just not the reason he’s refusing to eat. 

Kuroko snaps back into the conversation when he hears his name, scanning the table to find Akashi looking at him, gaze level and eyes calm. 

“Of course,” his mother says. Kuroko figures that Akashi’s asked to speak to him alone for a moment, so he stands up. 

The others look after them as they go, he knows it, and he tries to ignore how their gazes feel on his back. 

He walks Akashi into the same hallway that he’d spoken to his mother in, and he leans against the wall, hands behind his back as he waits for Akashi to speak. 

“You should tell your mother,” he says simply. 

Kuroko doesn’t have to ask him to clarify, he knows exactly what Akashi is talking about. 

Tell her about the anxiety, about the panic, about the attacks. Explain to her why they happen, and what he does when they occur.

“If it makes it easier, one or some of us can be with you when you decide to do it, but I suggest you do it soon.”

Akashi’s right, as much as Kuroko doesn’t want him to be. His mother is dealing with enough at the moment without tacking this on. But if something happens, if he has an attack in front of her, it’s going to be a lot more difficult to explain. 

Still…

“Right,” he says, “I’ll talk to her within a few days. I’d rather things be settled a bit before I tell her.”

Akashi nods and, without a word, the two of them return to the table. 

Within the hour, everyone’s parents have been called to pick them up or work out a way to get them home. Momoi and Aomine live close enough to walk, Akashi’s driver is going to take Murasakibara as well, and Midorima’s mother is on her way.

They pass the time in the front room. There’s a movie on for background noise but no one’s really watching it. Momoi and Kise keep the conversation running, entertaining Kuroko’s mother with stories from practice.

Akashi and Murasakibara are the first to leave, Kuroko walks them outside, not expecting much of anything. Murasakibara ruffles his hair before getting into the car and Akashi squeezes his shoulder before following suit. 

The two exchanges leave him standing on the street side a good two minutes after the car has driven away. 

Momoi and Aomine leave soon after and they both pull Kuroko into a hug before they go.

He ends up standing outside with Midorima for a few minutes, just waiting. It’s dead silent until Midorima speaks.

“I don’t mean for this to sound callous but I think the next best step is to seek professional help,” he says. “I don’t mind talking through these things, or helping you through your attacks as I’ve been doing, but it will be more helpful for you in the long run to get help from someone who knows what they’re doing. We’re sort of wandering through the dark with this.”

Kuroko barely has time to nod, let alone speak, before Midorima’s mother arrives. 

“Think about it,” Midorima says. “I’ll see you at school.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Shit.
> 
> This is about a day late, I apologize, I ended up on an unexpected twelve hour roadtrip. I'm also running on a few hours of sleep and sheer will. In any case, I don't wanna gunk up this note so please check out the update on the tumblr blog if you wanna know what's gonna be going on for the next month or so.

**Author's Note:**

> And we are starting off heavy everybody. I've been toying with this story for a while, and it was originally supposed to be a one-shot but it blew the hell up and turned into bits of a multi-chapter work, so... More tags will be added as the story goes on, but I'm pretty sure I've got most of them accounted for already.


End file.
